Unspeakable (Beyond Human)

by Nina Croft

  “I told you I have a fast metabolism,” she said when she scraped the plate and finally put down her knife and fork, then sat back and picked up her glass. “That was so good.” She yawned, smothering her mouth with her free hand. “Sorry, but it’s been a long day, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Bad dreams.”

  She gave him a strange look he couldn’t decipher. “You wouldn’t believe how bad.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed dinner. You want anything else?”

  “No, thank you. I’m stuffed.” She glanced across the room, to where Fergus sat. His assistant had a scowl on his face. “Fergus thinks it’s time for bed as well. You know, he’s going to be so pissed when he finds out you have a shielding device and he doesn’t.”

  He chuckled. Fergus did look put out.

  “Maybe you could take turns.”

  “Maybe.”

  He rose to his feet. She did the same, dropping her napkin on the table. “Don’t we have to get the bill?”

  “One of my people will sort it out.”

  “Do your people always go everywhere with you?”

  He shrugged, resting a hand on her waist as he led her from the restaurant. “Fergus arranges all my personal security. To be honest, it’s been part of my life for so long, I don’t even notice them.”

  “It would drive me crazy. Sometimes I need to be alone.”

  “Maybe that’s part of the telepathy thing.”

  “Maybe.”

  Fergus opened the door for them, and they stepped out into the crisp, clear night.

  “Should I call the car?” Fergus asked.

  Ethan didn’t want the evening to end. He glanced at her. “You want to walk back, get some fresh air? It will take half an hour or so.”

  She nodded. “I’d like to.”

  He rested his hand back on her waist—he liked touching her and she didn’t object—and headed in the direction of his apartment.

  “It’s nice to be outside. Especially considering where I woke up this morning.”

  Of course, she’d been in the cell. It seemed like a lifetime ago. “I’m sorry the accommodation wasn’t better.”

  “I didn’t mind the accommodation, and the food was actually quite good. It was the torture thing I wasn’t too keen on.”

  So much for normal. “Have you ever been tortured?”

  “No. But I was trained to withstand it. All the same, I really wasn’t looking forward to the experience. And I really didn’t like your doctor friend.”

  “No.” The doctor was a perverted creep, but it was hard to find good people to do a job like that.

  They were silent for a while, then she spoke again. “You’ve been tortured, haven’t you?”

  She’d presumably seen it in his head. The skin on his back tingled with the memory of the whip slicing through his flesh. The torture had been unsophisticated, nothing like the Conclave used. All the same, it hadn’t been pleasant. It wasn’t something he’d ever shared. His father had asked if he needed to talk to anyone when he got back—he’d presumed he meant a shrink. But he hadn’t. It had been an unpleasant experience, but not one that affected him deeply.

  “I caught a glimpse when you came in this morning,” she said, when he didn’t speak. “I’m sorry.”

  “About what? Me being tortured or poking into my mind?”

  “The tortured bit.” She shrugged. “With the mind-poking—well, if you have nothing bad in there then…”

  “I…parted ways with my father for a while, when I was eighteen. Joined the army and ended up fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq. I was taken prisoner.”

  “And they tortured you. Bastards. But they must have let you go.”

  “No. The Conclave broke me out.”

  “Nice of them. Or were they afraid you’d talk and tell everyone about your secret little club?”

  “Probably a little of both. But I believe my father has some fond feelings for me.”

  They reached the apartment block and the door opened.

  “Like magic,” she muttered.

  “No, just a man in a control room.”

  “Swanky.”

  He studied her as they went up in the elevator. She was beautiful. But it wasn’t that which drew him. He’d known many beautiful women and had found it easy to walk away. But he wanted this one.

  If he asked her nicely, would she come to his bed? Though he suspected Sadie wasn’t a woman who looked for niceness in her partners. There was an edginess to her, and he instinctively recognized she would like it hard and fast, more a fight than making love.

  Should he?

  Would it complicate things?

  Of course, it fucking would.

  And there was another thing. He could ignore lack of sleep for a long time, but he was tired, with a bone deep exhaustion that was mental, as well as physical. And she had shadows under her eyes. They both needed sleep.

  What if he asked her to share his bed and they would sleep together, nothing more? She’d probably laugh in his face.

  No. Best to say good night. Tomorrow would be time to think again.

  All the same, when he stopped at the room she’d been allocated, next to his, he couldn’t resist sliding his hand along the back of her neck, holding her still while he lowered his head and took her mouth in a long, slow kiss. Her lips parted for him, and she tasted of red wine. Without conscious thought, he found himself pushing her back until she hit the door behind her, then pushing further, so the hard length of his body pressed against hers. His cock reacted immediately, hardening in his pants, and he groaned into her mouth.

  Why not?

  His hand went to the door handle, but before he could turn it, she placed her palm on his chest and shoved. He stepped back, more from shock than force.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Why did you come back? After they got you out of that prison, why didn’t you stay away?”

  It hadn’t been an option then. His father had allowed him a little freedom, but he’d made it clear that the freedom was over. He came back or he died. It was the Conclave way. Except, he knew deep down that wasn’t the real reason. It was way more complicated than that. More complicated even than finding the truth about his mother.

  When he didn’t answer, she continued, “I saw what you thought of the Conclave. I know you have doubts. Deep down, you recognize they are evil.”

  “The Conclave is neither good nor evil, only the people who control it are. One day that will be me.”

  She snorted. “And you think you’ll do a better job?”

  Did he?

  “Or do you suspect that by the time you take over, you’ll be as steeped in evil as they are?” She reached behind her and pushed open the door. “Good night, Ethan.”

  And she was gone.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ethan woke in the darkness of early morning. Dawn came late at this time of year. He’d slept unexpectedly well, and felt vital and alert and full of energy.

  The reflector device was still on his head; he’d slept in it. Had he thought she might try and invade his dreams? There hadn’t been any.

  He pressed the phone on the bedside cabinet that gave him a direct link to the control room. “I’m going for a run. Five minutes.” He got up and dressed in jogging pants and a T-shirt, added a sweatshirt and trainers.

  His security team was waiting as the elevator doors opened. They were all dressed in black running gear so they wouldn’t look conspicuous, but he knew they’d all be armed beneath the sweatshirts. The crisp, cold air hit him as he stepped into the street, and he started running, keeping up a steady pace, clearing his mind. He reached the Thames and ran along the embankment, breathing in the salt tang of the river. The streets were quiet this early. He loved the feeling of having the city to himself. Well, him and his three bodyguards, but he’d told the truth last night. He’d gotten so used to them, he could zone them out.

  He was heading back, running between two buildings when a sound be
hind him pulled him to a stop. As he turned, his guards crashed to the ground and lay unmoving.

  He went on instant alert. There had been no gunshots, not even the muted sound of a silencer. But all three men were out cold, whether dead or unconscious, he couldn’t say. He stood immobile, waiting for…he had no clue. Was this some sort of kidnapping attempt, a power play within the Conclave? Or an assassination? But if so, why was he still alive? As his mind raced through the possibilities, a woman stepped out of the shadows behind the crumpled forms of his bodyguards. He recognized her immediately as the woman who’d been with Sadie that first night at Forrester’s. Though she didn’t look like a hooker this morning. She was dressed in black jeans, boots, and a black leather jacket. She stood, unmoving, watching him, studying him, her head cocked to one side. As he took a step toward her, she gave a slight shake of her head, and he stopped. She didn’t appear to be armed, and her hands hung loosely at her side.

  He could take her.

  He balanced on the balls of his feet, muscles tensing.

  “Don’t do it.” The soft voice came from off to his left, and he swung around. A man stood there. Tall with midnight-black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was dressed the same, black jeans and a black jacket. A pistol dangled from his hand, not aimed at him, but held casually, as though it was an extension to his arm. He was clearly a man who felt at ease with weapons. Ethan breathed in deeply, forcing the tension out of his muscles.

  “Very sensible,” the man murmured. In his other hand, he held a leash, which was attached to a huge glossy Doberman, who let out a low whine. The pair of them strolled toward him, though the woman remained at a distance.

  “Are they dead?” he asked, nodding toward his bodyguards.

  “No, just unconscious. They’ll wake in a few minutes with nothing more than a headache.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  He had an inkling who this man was. “You’re Jake?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Sadie told you about me?”

  “No. She mentioned you in passing.” He looked at the unconscious men and back at the woman. “She did this? Some sort of mind…thing?”

  The man gave a shrug. What the hell? Sadie hadn’t mentioned that. No wonder Travis was interested. What else could they do? If the Conclave could harness those powers—

  A smile flickered across Jake’s face. “Never going to happen.”

  He frowned. “Can you read my mind? Even with the device.”

  “No, but I’m good at reading faces.”

  Ethan would have sworn he was impossible to read—he’d learned to keep his thoughts to himself at an early age. But maybe it was part of the telepathic thing. “You said you wanted to talk. So talk.”

  A look passed between Jake and the woman, and her lips twitched. They were no doubt talking about him. He wasn’t sure he liked that. Hell, he knew he didn’t like it. “What?”

  “Rose and I were debating whether to allow you to keep it.” He waved a hand at the device on Ethan’s head. “Or whether we should take a look inside your head, see what you’re really thinking.”

  He glanced toward the gun. “You’d shoot me?”

  “We wouldn’t need to. I’m sure between us”—he nodded toward Rose—“we could divest you of your little trinket.”

  “Maybe.” But he wouldn’t bet on it.

  “We won’t push it today. Sadie seems to think our best move at this point is cooperating with you. So we’ll cooperate. For now.”

  “So what the hell do you want to talk about?”

  Jake stepped closer. Slightly taller than Ethan, he held himself like a soldier. Ethan refused to back down. Sadie had said he was a good man, but he had an edge, a hint of darkness Ethan had only seen before in trained killers.

  “Sadie says our best means of getting our friends back is to work with you. So that’s what we’ll do. But I’m handing her care to you.”

  For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. He shook his head. “Actually, I think she’s quite capable of taking care of herself.”

  “Maybe. All the same, if anything happens to Sadie on your watch, you will answer for it.”

  “Do you really believe you can take on the Conclave?” He was curious to know the answer.

  “Maybe, maybe not. But I’m talking about you, personally.” He nodded toward where his men still lay on the ground, unconscious. “That’s nothing. If anything happens to Sadie, we will strip the thoughts from your mind, leave your head a vast wasteland of nothing.”

  As threats went, it was pretty effective. Ethan had faced death many times. In fact, he’d grown almost indifferent to the concept. But the idea of anyone meddling with his mind, leaving him a vegetable, made a shiver of unease run through him. This time, though, he kept his thoughts to himself. He wouldn’t respond to threats.

  “Piss off,” was all he said.

  Jake grinned. “At least you’ve got balls.”

  “He’ll need them if he’s dealing with Sadie,” Rose spoke for the first time.

  “I could almost feel sorry for him.”

  “Yeah, if he wasn’t an evil bastard scumbag.” The words were spoken almost conversationally, but there was real hatred in her blue eyes when she looked at him. Another shiver ran through him.

  “You’re the enemy. We’ve lost people close to us because of the Conclave,” Jake said. “But Sadie seems to think that you may not be entirely unredeemable. So for now we will go along with this. But we don’t forget.”

  “Fair enough. No harm will come to her through me.”

  “More than that. You keep her safe. You protect her from the rest of your evil little group of power-hungry monsters.”

  For a moment, he thought about defending the Conclave. But how could he? “I’ll protect her.”

  Jake gave him a long look and then nodded. “See that you do.” He took a step closer and held out the dog’s leash to Ethan.

  He frowned. “I don’t need a dog.”

  “He’s Sadie’s.”

  “Actually,” Rose said, “he was Forrester’s, but Sadie sort of adopted him.”

  “And the fucking mutt won’t stop whining since she left. Which means he’s part of the deal.”

  Had he made a deal? Actually, he’d promised to protect a woman who was his sworn enemy, the sworn enemy of the Conclave. Great way to start a day. But he’d already made that commitment to himself the moment he’d walked into that room of torture and seen her strapped to that chair. He’d known then that there was no way he would allow anyone to hurt her.

  “His name is Max,” Rose said as he took the lead and looked down at the dog. He did look sad. Growing up, he’d never had a dog. They’d moved around too much. He supposed there had been guard dogs, but he’d never been encouraged to make friends with them.

  “We’ll be around,” Jake said.

  “Say hi to Sadie for me,” Rose said. “Tell her we’ll come and get her anytime.”

  Then they were gone. Ethan stood in the dim early morning light. On the ground, one of his men groaned and curled into a ball.

  He considered waiting for them to come around, but in the end, he called Fergus, told him where to find them, and then headed off in the direction of home.

  In two days, he’d got a live-in woman and a dog.

  His life was changing.

  At the thought, a sense of foreboding ran through him. His path had been set in stone so long ago. It would take a cataclysmic force to shift it from its predestined path. But he had a feeling a storm was coming…

  …

  I love you.

  The words filtered through her dream. Vague and insubstantial. She tried to catch hold of them, turn them to something concrete, but at that moment a cold, wet object jabbed her in the face, and she came fully awake with a jolt.

  Her eyes flashed open, and she stared straight into a set of liquid brown eyes. A warm, wet tongue swiped over her cheek and a feeling of…love washed over
her.

  Here was someone she could love unequivocally.

  She pushed herself up, then patted the mattress beside her. The bed was huge, plenty of room for another. “Up, Max.”

  Where the hell had he come from?

  He jumped up beside her and she buried her nose in his soft fur, stroked her hands over him, and he rolled over, asking for a belly-rub, and she obliged. His simple doggy thoughts soothed her.

  The bedroom door was wide open. Someone must have let him in. Reaching out with her mind, she encountered a disgruntled Fergus in the sitting room—he was a goddamn dog minder now as well as a babysitter. Her lips twitched. She reached out farther, but couldn’t pick up either Ethan or the muted hum of the reflector device. Which meant he wasn’t here.

  And she really didn’t like the sense of disappointment that realization brought with it. She gave Max a last rub and dragged herself out of bed. She’d found a T-shirt in one of the drawers to sleep in—it covered her to mid-thigh. Fergus wouldn’t be too shocked. Or maybe he would. No doubt she’d find out. But she needed coffee. That wouldn’t wait.

  Max stayed close to her side as she wandered out into the main room. Fergus stood at the window, staring out, but turned, as if sensing her presence. He was worried. It filled his mind, but was wiped away as he caught sight of her.

  His gaze dropped down over her. Hell, no need to be so shocked, she was decently covered. He lingered on the long length of her legs beneath the T-shirt, and his mind hazed with desire, though nothing showed in his face.

  Her lips twitched again—she’d keep Fergus around for amusement value—and she patted the dog at her side. “Hey, Max, Fergus thinks I’m sexy.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t make anything of it. I think most half-naked women are sexy. I have low standards. But believe me when I say—I would not go there.”

  No, he wouldn’t. He thought she was dangerous. He also considered her Ethan’s property, which was interesting. He wasn’t happy about it. But she was the boss’s woman. She delved a little further. He thought this was going to end badly. The Conclave was too powerful to cross. And he didn’t trust her.